


Birthday Disaster

by leetje



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Derek is worried, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Stiles is a spaz, a fire happens, but no injuries or anything!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1237369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leetje/pseuds/leetje
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles had just wanted to surprise Derek for his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Disaster

Stiles morosely stared off into space - while he pulled the shock blanket that he was given more tightly around his shoulders, shivering in the crisp night air. He still couldn’t quite process everything that had happened not even an hour ago. How did he end up like this? How could such a perfectly planned evening go so terribly wrong? Fuck, he was a first class moron.

Today was Derek’s birthday. He’d spend the day preparing – had been silently mulling over the details in his head for weeks, changing his mind every hour or so – even though Derek had specifically told him not to, because Derek NEVER wanted to celebrate his birthdays, like ever. Regardless of that, he’d wanted to do something for his _dear_ husband anyway; because Derek deserved to feel a little special on his birthday, whether he wanted to or not.

In the end – after running through several different possibilities in his head – he’d settled on surprising Derek with a romantic homemade meal – plus a bottle of champagne that had cost an entire freaking paycheck – and then maybe some action in the bedroom, that may or may not involve a pair of ridiculously fluffy handcuffs. Stiles had thought it to have been a brilliant scenario; until he got to the executional part of it all.

He’d quickly worked his way through making a starter (a nice, but simple Carpaccio recipe he’d taken from one of Jamie Oliver’s many, awesome books) and main course (rib eye steak with garlic-flavoured potatoes and a minimum amount of veggies – Derek and his dad definitely had that in common), but then he’d gotten to making the dessert – somehow he’d gotten into his head that he’d be awesome at making crème brûlée – and that’s when the details started to get a bit muddled.

Vaguely he remembered how he’d been ready to caramelise the sugar, blow torch at the ready, but his hands had been slippery from prepping, and then he’d just dropped the blasted thing on a dishrag – which had caught fire, of course it did – but instead of keeping a calm head, Stiles had panicked, arms flailing around - which then resulted in him knocking over the _fucking olive oil_ and well, that’s when he’d called 911, as angry flames had started to spread all over the kitchen counter. And here he now was, embarrassed and rattled as fuck. But luckily he’d made it out just fine.

“STILES?!” Blinking, Stiles was pulled out of his thoughts and looked up and then winced. Well fuck, he probably should’ve let Derek know what had happened by now, instead of having him come home unaware.  “Stiles! What happened? Are you okay?” Derek rushed to his side and immediately started to check him for injuries, even though there were some EMT’s around who were probably better trained for that.

Gently warding Derek’s searching hands off with his own, he nodded. “Yeah, I’m- I’m alright. A little shaken up, but fine.” Woah, when did his voice get so raspy? Must’ve been the smoke he’d inhaled. Derek just gave him an incredulous look, before tightly crushing him to his chest.

“Fuck Stiles, when I got home and saw all the commotion and realised they were parked right outside our home, I-“ Stiles felt Derek shudder against him and he felt his stomach churn.

Shifting a little in Derek’s embrace, he looked up into the other man’s worried face and lifted his hand upwards to cup Derek’s jaw, stroking over his cheek in comfort and smiled softly. “I really am okay. I’m sorry you had to come home to this, on your birthday no less.” He sighed wistfully. ”It’s not how I’d imagined our night to have gone at all. I had plans, dammit. Really awesome ones, in fact.”

Before Derek could reply, they were interrupted by one of the firemen; they had finished wrapping up their gear and were ready to leave. “We’ve just finished our final inspection; you’re good to go back inside again, though I’d recommend staying clear of the kitchen until the morning and maybe open a window or two, though the smell of smoke will probably linger for a while.” Stiles just nodded, rather a bit too dumbfounded to reply, as Derek introduced himself and took over, asking the fireman a few questions about the fire and what had caused it. Stiles just tuned them out as they spoke; feeling extremely stupid and clumsy, though eventually he did have to give his version of events. He tersely replied to their queries and refused to look at Derek or the fireman - whose name he’d already forgotten again – staring at his shoes instead.

God, he’d nearly burned down their fucking home. He was an actual, proper idiot. Really, there weren’t enough words in the English language to describe what an utter tool he is. And one thing was definitely certain; he was never making crème brûlée _ever_ again. Maybe he should even give up on cooking all together, which shouldn’t be too much of a sacrifice; Derek was the better cook anyway.

A hand squeezing his neck gently brought him out of his reverie. “Hey, come on, we’re good to go in now.” Looking around he noticed that they were nearly, practically alone in front of their home again; the fire truck that had been called on to the scene was driving away and ambulance had already gone. Aside from the blanket, Stiles hadn’t required much assistance, luckily having sustained no injuries or smoke damage to his lungs; even the few bystanders that had shown up were gone, probably disappointed there hadn’t been much action to see.

Derek led him back into the house, where they immediately were welcomed by a strong stench of smoke; the fireman hadn’t been kidding when he said they should keep some windows open for a while. Stiles busied himself with doing just that, all the while steering clear of the kitchen, but Derek went to check out the damage, before coming back into the living room again.

“You actually wanted to cook me a birthday dinner.” Derek’s trademark smirk appeared and Stiles was glad, the haunted looks that Derek had given him earlier had made his heart clench in pain; it had been a long time since he’d last seen Derek like that. And he felt horrible that he’d been cause of them making a reappearance tonight.

“Yeah and apparently the universe has a cruel way of telling me I should’ve just listened to you when you said you didn’t want anything special today. I’m an idiot, a blockhead, an imbecile, a bonehead…… yeah.” Stiles tried to grin, but found that he couldn’t. Helplessly, he made a noise of distress as he let himself sink into the cushions of their very comfy couch.

Before he could process it properly, Derek had already pulled him onto his lap, hugging him closely, nuzzling against his temple as he sighed. “I’m glad you’re alright, that’s all that matters. Don’t- just don’t ever scare me like that again. Losing you- I couldn’t bear it. ”

Stiles winced as he looked up. “I know, I’m the same when it comes to you. And I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. Especially because, you know. Your family, the fire – _Fuck_.” Swallowing heavily, he continued.  ”I’ll stay away from blowtorches from now on; I’ll stay away from anything that’s even remotely dangerous to a spastic klutz like me. I promise.” Placing a kiss to the corner of Derek’s mouth, he gave him a watery smile. “As long as you promise to do the same.”

***

Stiles quietly let himself back into their home, hoping that he was being stealthy enough and that Derek hadn’t awoken from the deep slumber he’d been in when Stiles had gotten out of bed about an hour ago.  Since the surprise he’d given Derek hadn’t quite been the pleasant one he’d originally intended, he was kinda gunning to make up for it this morning.

He’d been unable to sleep, his brain still too rattled and attempting to process the events from the night before. Eventually around 7am he’d had enough and went out. Since the kitchen would be rather useless for a while yet, he’d gone into town to the bakery and gotten all of Derek’s favourite pastries and then nipped into the deli next door for some fresh O.J. and fruit salad; he wouldn’t be a proper, caring husband if he didn’t make sure that Derek got his daily dose of vitamins.

Luckily they kept their finest silver cutlery together with his mom’s old china set in the dining room, so he could continue to avoid going into the kitchen for a while longer. He quickly put set up a breakfast tray, with a tacky plastic rose he’d bought at the deli on a whim; figuring he might as well go all out.

He nearly tripped on the stairs as he made his way up to their bedroom – navigating your way upwards while trying to make sure nothing spilled from the tray was hard, okay? – but miraculously enough, Derek was still passed out as he entered their room ; his large frame sprawled all over Stiles’ side of the bed, as if he’d been reaching for him in his sleep. Stiles rolled his eyes, but inwardly he felt butterflies start to flutter; it was nice, knowing Derek still yearned for Stiles as much as Stiles still yearned for him, even after they’d already been together for nearly ten years.

Softly making his way over to the side of the bed, Stiles gently set the tray down on his nightstand and just took a long moment to ogle at Derek’s fine physique, mentally applauding himself - probably for the billionth time - that he got to tap that on a regular - usually daily – basis.

Glancing down from Derek’s chest, he noticed that the sheet was tenting a little, morning wood making an appearance; Derek was probably close to waking up. Grinning mischievously, Stiles crouched closer, putting one knee on the bed as he sneaked out a hand, running it over his husband’s abs and down to his happy trail, where the sheet was pooling lowly over his stomach and hips.

Derek moaned softly, not quite awake yet, but he definitely started to reach consciousness. Stiles straddled his legs and pulled the sheet down; Derek was fully erect now. Moving down, Stiles started on his own, favoured choice of breakfast, engulfing Derek’s cock in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he started to suck.

Derek roused with a gasp, hips unconsciously thrusting a little into Stiles’ mouth. “Wh- _Stiles_.”

Pleased that his audience of one was now awake, Stiles lightly grazed his teeth around the head of Derek’s cock and ran his tongue through the slit; lapping up the pre-come that had started to leak.

A hand ran through his hair, before it grasped tightly when Stiles started to speed up his movements, hand and mouth working in tandem until Derek went rigid: groaning loudly as he came, shooting his load down Stiles’ throat; and Stiles gladly lapped up everything that Derek had to give, before releasing Derek’s flagging penis with a loud plop.

Grinning up at Derek , Stiles rested his head on the other man’s thigh, a hand lovingly caressing over his stomach. “Good morning _my love_ , sleep well?”

A million emotions seem to run across Derek’s face, as he simultaneously struggled with coming down from his orgasm, waking up from his sleep and the general surprise that Stiles has sprung upon him. Stiles congratulated himself on a job well done, there was nothing more rewarding than seeing Derek happy, knowing he’d been the cause of it.

Suddenly remembering the fluffy handcuffs he’d bought, he teasingly flicked one of Derek’s nipples. “Hurry up and eat your breakfast, I’m not done with you yet.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> *nervous twitch*
> 
> My first baby steps into writing again after many, many years. This time around I really would love to start to write more again. I have the ideas, I just need to find a way to transfer them into actual words.
> 
> Since this is my first fic in so many years, I have no beta and it's my first Sterek fic, so I'd really, REALLY appreciate any concrit I could get. Like some words being too British for Stiles' vocabulary. Whether I'm overusing commas, if my characterisations are too OOC and etc. Anything would be quite welcome really! 
> 
> This fic was written for Candis, my soultwin, in honour of her birthday..... six months ago. I'm a terrible friend. Happy belated birthday darling, or a very happy early one! <333


End file.
